Running From Safety
by Silverfern500
Summary: A gypsy girl makes her way off-planet, facing everything she's only read about in story tales. And what is it about the elusive captain that makes her so curious? Abigail longs to find a new home in the Etherium, and Jim longs to get her out of his hair.
1. Kicked Out

Running From Safety

"Just, put the gun down," she smiled sweetly, backing away slowly as her father-figure side-stepped toward her. Maybe he didn't mean to hurt her, although she already knew better. "We can work this out!" Her smile widened to show more teeth, eyes brimming with tears at what the man had to do. Her attacker's poker face stayed unfazed as he cocked the weapon in his hands with a sickening 'click'. To him, this was all just routine. Abigail faltered. The wooden door of her childhood home came up behind her as she stumbled backwards into it. "Oh." She whispered in denial. It was a feeble idea that she could change her people's ways now. "But we can still…"  
>"Abigail." Her father warned as the young charcoal-haired girl stretched out a welcoming hand to him. The barrel of the gun wavered slightly to her right, where the door's handle gleamed from the over-head lamp's light.<br>The girl moved her arm down gently to hold herself around her middle. Something told her it didn't have to be this way. She was frowning now. With a tear rolling down her cheek to land on her dusty green shirt, she reached for her only assurance of survival. Even if she wasn't really ready to leave, it was her own ignorance that had landed her here. She rest her hand on the brass handle and pushed, not daring to turn to the night's opening maw.

"B-but I'm your… daughter." Abigail stuttered without conviction, thinking maybe being family would mean something. Suddenly she flinched. A bullet went whizzing right past her head and into the black. She gulped, clamped her eyes shut, and ran, a shower of metal following after her feet as she heard the gun load and load again as the sound got further and further away. The heel of Abigail's left palm found her eyes and dug in one at a time, removing all traces of moisture.

After what she could guess was an hour of running, which was greatly hindered by her long tattered gypsy skirts and leather-clad feet, she finally stopped and collapsed in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't right for them to kick her out. Her brother wouldn't protect her, her mother wouldn't even say goodbye, her sisters, her pride and joy, would definitely not miss her; and her allusive father just shot at her. It all made her so desperate and angry. But it wouldn't turn this girl into a broken record. In fact, she was brought up to expect it all. She just thought maybe it would be different for her, though she couldn't come up with a reason why. Yet wasn't it rational to want that? If she could only believe their contempt was a lie, that she could be worthy of affection.  
>On the outer planets – barely aligned with the Galactic union – it is natural to keep only those who can provide for the family. This was more than that. Abigail couldn't do well enough for the house, was never in their favor, and being of age to fend for herself- was only a loose end in need of cutting. Or, in her case, <em>shooting<em>. But she had fair warning, and it wasn't as if she'd starve. If her mother looked at her with hard eyes that made her cringe and fear all women, at least she taught her daughter a viable trade. With her dance and her looks Abigail could at least afford to keep food in her stomach. The thought cheered the 15 year old up a little yet drained her hope all the more.  
>"I have GOT to get off this planet." She whimpered, lying on her side in the dirt. There was no civilization for miles, even after an hour of running past her small village. And with her malnutrition there was no way she had the energy to get anywhere now. Still, Abigail was smart. She knew there was a space port due west of her position even if she didn't remember visiting there with her mother nearly 11 years ago. If she could rest a while, bring herself to dance in the streets, then maybe she'd earn enough money to barter passage out. Or she could work for a crew. She wondered about that, yawning tiredly. The proposition warmed her slightly. Story books were all the excitement she had ever known.<p>

Once, when she was very small, the prospect of dance was something to look forward to learning. That was long before she knew how many times her mother would beat her for a missed step. How she'd be forced to put weight on twisted ankles and dance on hot coals. Abigail would never go near a woman again if she had a choice. Absentmindedly she massaged her feet, not having to switch positions due to her flexibility. She longed to prove that somewhere in the Etherium existed a world where the people, being better off, were not as cruel.

When her thoughts started to lose reason and her mind went numb from it, Abigail slipped easily into slumber.

Everyone who got kicked out, got forgotten. Everyone who got forgotten, got lost. And the only sure way to get lost on a small and poor planet was for her to get the hell off.

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><p>{AN}: I wasn't really planning on making this a fanfiction when I started, but other fanfic works that starred an elusive Captain James Hawkins did delight me so. I can't promise he'll show up much, but I can promise you'll see him soon. I hope Abigail didn't come off too mary-sue. As always, relax, read, and review. And here's to having a gypsy instead of a pirate for once, eh? ;)


	2. Last Goodbye

Two

It was only 7am and already the heat was overpowering the spacers docking at Jedadye's port. Abigail had arrived a little over five hours prior, had caught a little more shut-eye, and was now standing head down in the middle of the bustling square. Colorful shops stood everywhere, catching her eye while the noise of the crowd's roar deafened her ears. Each lobe was adorned in gold circlets. In fact, gold seemed to be everywhere you looked on her body. Little gold bells adorned her feet, bangles shot up her arms, a belt hung off her purple skirts, and even a little ball could be seen in her nose. Each piece was paid in blood and sweat. Even inside her tan-hide boots a little dagger was clipped, gold coloring on the handle. It had cut a small gash into her heel during her travel.

She stayed like that, head down, arms crossed in front of her, feet stuck in a plie-type state, until a travelling man dark in complexion and hair started a tune on his sitar. Then she burst to life, jumping in expert time just to land and dance away. Arms invited the gathering audience in, rejecting and pleading for them at the same time. The bells jingled, sweat beading at her brow until finally, exhausted, the music slowed and her movements stopped. A roar of cheers threw up into the air and Abigail turned to thank the Gypsy man who had recognized and helped her though her facial features had been marred by dirt.

He smiled knowingly and outstretched his arms to her, setting down his instrument as he sat on some boxes with one foot up. The girl went running into his bare chest. It was very true that she would eagerly accept any man like that, but this one was special. They stayed together, breathing hard and covered in sweat, until smoothly Abigail was maneuvered to be held at arm's length. "My darling…." The man addressed her, a slight lilt to his voice. He looked no more than 26 and wore blue-and-white striped pants that billowed out only to hug tight to his ankles. His shoes were of a lighter blue, curling into little genie-style points. "So you didn't make it then?" he guessed, letting the girl fall back into his chest and patting her hair fondly. This was the one she'd miss the most.

"No, Ricardo, you know that." She laughed, pinching his shoulder blade. She was genuinely glad to see him. Ricardo went to pinch her back but Abigail pranced out of his reach in no time at all. He chuckled a little. For as long as she could remember, he had always been by her side like this, and she was always causing him trouble.  
>"How? I don't see a hole in you anywhere. You know, where there isn't supposed to be one," he winked but she just rolled her eyes.<p>

Dusting off and re-situating her clothes from where they moved during her dancing, Abigail unclipped the noisy bells from her ankles and sat beside her life-long friend. "You knew enough to come see me off." She noted pointedly. It wouldn't be right if he hadn't showed. Ricardo lived almost as far as she, and he was aware that the Dossen family never came to this side of the planet. Now Ricardo burst out into uncontrollable laughter. He was simply howling with it and Abigail wanted nothing more than to push him over.

"Oh, honey, I didn't have to know," he slapped his knee, "all the knowledge I needed was you + work equals not happening." Abigail growled at his assumption. Mostly because it wasn't wrong.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Her urge to push him finally won out but the strong lad stood in time for her to be the one falling over empty air instead. Thankfully he helped her up, ruffling her hair a bit. It barely reached her collar bone and was full of knots. "I missed you. Ricardo, I'm… scared." She told him quietly, standing up so their height difference wouldn't be terribly noticeable.

His big brown eyes looked over her worriedly and completely serious. When he was younger, he was the best sitar player on the planet. He wasn't made to leave. But plenty of his friends and brothers hadn't been as lucky. Now he lived on his own and was just as adamant about changing the system as Abigail.

"You can stay with me." He murmured, completely serious now. He wanted nothing more than for it to be true, but she just shook her head, willing him not to say his next words. "I could love you, and you'd never go hungry, Abigail, I don't know how I'll survive without your laughter and dancing-"

"Ricardo, no." she cut him off. Hearing him say that was like hearing the 'just friends' speech, only opposite. Her skin was crawling without her wanting it to as she continued. "I can't stay here. They'd find us. The whole purpose of finding myself elsewhere would fall flat. My life would waste… and… and I'm ready to go." Her eyes begged him to believe, even if she wasn't fully convinced yet herself.

Their parting wasn't supposed to be a walk in the park. She was glad to see someone care, but she needed him to let her go. Why did she need that so badly? "Here," she made a decision and handed him the bells from before. "Keep these and the sound will remind you of me… and, and remember that I'm somewhere happy, with great new people and a shining future."

Ricardo's eyes softened at her pained expression and he brought Abigail into another embrace, this time as a farewell instead of a greeting. When they broke apart he handed her the tips she earned from her performance. As she thought, they weren't enough to buy a ticket to anywhere. "You're going to rattle the stars, girl. I'd love to see their reflection in your eyes when you get where you're going." And then he turned and disappeared into the crowd, just like that. Abigail took a deep breath to steady her emotions. And she smiled wanly.

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><p>{AN}: Remember, I didn't initially intend this to be a work of fanfiction. But don't worry, Jim will show up... soon. Relax, Read, Review, and here's to a non-pirate OC XD


	3. Offplanet

Three

It was now ten thirty and she still had to track down a ship that would hire her. Yet the day was young and her heart full of hopes for the future, the calls of spacers to their buddies loud in her ears and the glowing masts unfurling in her increasingly eager and equally young eyes. Today was her 16th birthday, and she would celebrate it, for the first time, in space. As a last-minute decision, she planned to make it seem as if she'd run away on her own.

Maybe, deep down, she did. Either way, she wouldn't dwell on those who never took the chance to know her. Time to move on, she thought, strutting fast toward a particularly small dock where a medium-sized ship floated happily with the insignia "RLS Legacy" on its side. It was unclear if the influence of one particular story book drove her to choose it.

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><p>40 minutes later the crew was making to set off. Luckily, that meant with Abigail on board. A man by the name of Gordon had hired her when she'd come calling. She figured because he couldn't resist her charm, or the certain lack of a female presence had worn him down. She didn't mind being the only one around a large group of men. In fact, she relaxed when she realized she would be.<p>

Gordon was a shorter man of fair skin with locks of bronze, bangs constantly in his face, a hint of freckling. Some droopy ears were the tell-tale signs of his being a Canid. One didn't see many non-humans on this colony. Actually, he looked down-right feminine, although he was quick to inform her of his place as first mate, explaining how strict he could be. From where she was currently swabbing the decks, his point was becoming apparent. She heard the tell-tale signs of a shouting match rising behind the captain's door. By now she was quite accustomed to these things from listening in on her sibling's spats.

Yet she tried her best to ignore it, for it wasn't really her business. Even if they were fighting about her. Whether they decided to kick her off or keep her on, in ten minutes they would set sail and then they couldn't get rid of her either way. She fully expected this to be her last few moments around all she'd ever known before she left it forever.

"I TOLD you, no girls! And _who_ do you bring on my ship?" an unknown voice raged.  
>"Captain-" Gordon tried to get his say. Abigail reminded herself to thank him for that, and everything.<br>"A GIRL!" the other finished, not listening to a word. Gordon pressed harder.

"Sir, if I may." There was only silence. "A Gypsy would be great for this voyage. She can keep up the morale, and I can tell she'll make a great cabin girl. She's willing to work, sir, and…." As proud of how she was being sold, Abigail didn't look forward to Gordon's next words.

"And she doesn't have anywhere to go." The last bit was a low blow and the boy knew it. The captain couldn't refuse that plea due to issues of his own. He muttered something about his first journey as captain being ruined by some random street floozy who would soon rob them blind.

Thankfully, Abigail didn't catch that part. She was too busy making friends with a short sailor by the name of Shelly. He was younger than even Gordon at either 10 or 11, and she wondered whether the captain didn't happen to pick up any stray child that found him. It was someone for her to cling to, anyway. Looking around it was clear none of the others cared for this child, and talking to him revealed how he thought himself adult. That comment made her chuckle inwardly, but Shelly, or 'Shane', as he preferred, didn't find the humor.

Eventually Gordon emerged to convey the captain's well wishings. Abigail didn't particularly like her status as a 'runaway' being made known, but the Canid had promised to only tell Captain, and this man she hadn't met apparently wouldn't spread hearsay around. Abigail wasn't sure yet what she thought about such a mysterious person. Instinct told her, if he was truly male, she'd find him at one of her dances. That reminded her to keep it PG for the boy who'd earlier run off. All ready she could spot some instruments on the ship. Now, if only someone would be willing to play. A good melody would do well to hearten her mood.

Just then a new wave of excitement passed through the crew. The boat was breaking away from the little spaceport as Abigail said a silent goodbye to it, hands clasped in prayer. She was turning away sadly when, in the crowd below, she spotted Ricardo playing what was undoubtedly a ballad of farewell. A twinge of fear washed over unbidden, but she smiled her biggest smile and waved furiously as he looked up at her. Without cue her voice spiraled up above the chaos in what became a sea chantey.  
>"<em>O'er the winds may blow, and the rains may fall. The stormy brine goes on fore'er. But we'll heed no call, from Calypso's squall. Sail on my shipmate's endeavor."<em> When she finished she discovered that most of the men had joined in.

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><p>It was now time to tie lifelines for the break of atmosphere as the planet was already a speck in the distance. Abigail was still filled with sorrow but most of it got replaced by anticipation. She found herself absentmindedly climbing up into the shrouds before she could stop. Tying a loose rope around her waist, her eyes wide in awe as the ship climbed higher and higher, hair flowing out behind her billowing shirt with the breeze. She braced herself. If someone was up there with her, she didn't notice them watching her smile with a wary expression.<p>

She didn't have time. They broke fast, the crew floating up until a strong voice called down the crow's nest for the gravity generator. That's when Gordon noticed Abigail from below and called out to her. She almost didn't hear him, her attention completely on the stars she only dared to dream of being so close to. She would have liked to tell her youngest sister about them.

"The captain wants you below decks with the cook!" Gordon shouted then. Wait – Abigail got suspicious – wasn't the captain, pretty much, right by her? She looked. She couldn't see him, but she had heard him for sure. It made her angry. Why couldn't he face her? Her rage boiled as she untied herself, judging whether she should make her way down or double check. She only got a foot higher before she got called down again. Reluctantly she had to comply; being rebellious on the first day wasn't going to do her any favors. Besides, there's no use bothering with someone who doesn't want to be messed with.

She jumped right in front of Gordon, causing him to skitter back. "Kitchen duty?" she questioned dryly, enjoying the expression on his face. "Show me the way."

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><p>{AN}: See? I told you Jim would show up. Guess stories aren't really popular without him. What do you think of him? What about Gordon and Shane? Relax, Read, Review, Remember: I don't own the ship, the Etherium, or Captain.


	4. Kitchen Duty

Four

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><p>Gordon was startled by her smile, for it was quite an unnerving change. He wondered what had bothered her earlier but didn't press as he lead her down past the crew's sleeping quarters and into the kitchen. "This way," he assured her as heat rose up from the depths. Abigail could hear the cook's whistling from within. What she saw first was his great back, then a metal arm. Her mouth dropped a little out of surprise rather than fear. Was everyone on the voyage going to be this interesting?<p>

The cyborg turned, aware of his company, and scowled. "If it ain't the gypsy wench." He scoffed at her. "They calls me Greg roun' here."

"Abigail Dossen," she offered her hand but he glared at it as if she'd poison him. Well, what kind of name was _Greg_ anyway? The cyborg looked her over with distaste. She knew Gypsies were looked down upon by most in the galaxy, but they were quite the common occurrence where she was from. Thus, she didn't take too kindly to quick judgments made at her expense. Not that most weren't, well, true.  
>"Eh," Greg decided, "If I'm ta be stuck wit' you. Can't be calling somethan' ridiculous'ly long all dze time. Fro' now on yer name be…" his mind grasped for something. "Abby Donn. Und'rstand?"<p>

Abigail thought his sudden announcement over. His approach to her name was unexpected but not entirely wrong. How long was she going to be on this ship, anyway? After moments of thinking it over, her face relaxed and she grinned at Greg, agreeing. "I love it." She praised her new title, startling the cook with her oddly placed joy. His scowl deepened as Abigail stepped back and got a good look at their surroundings. "So," she reluctantly asked, frowning, "what's first on my list of chores?"

He took no time in replying. "Scrub the pots 'till I can see me own mug in 'em," Greg growled. Turning back to his cooking, he made it apparent that he was done speaking with her.  
>"Yes sir." Abigail sighed with a mock salute, not liking the company Gordon was now leaving her with as he gave her a sympathetic smile and exited. Abigail went to the stack of pots of pans. A bucket of water sat next to it with a rag hanging out and she got to work. Needless to say she got stuck with this job often back at home.<p>

Here on the ship she was stuck with it, well, for one it would keep her away from the crew. The reason the captain didn't want a girl on-board, it would be a distraction for the crew. Plus, a gypsy? What respectable captain _would_ show his face to her or want her around? She couldn't hold it against him. Greg, yeah. The one keeping her from being dumped in the middle of no-where? Not really. Abigail rolled her eyes

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><p>By the time she finished it was almost time for dinner. Greg had her carrying out food to the crew that chattered enthusiastically about their new journey, and, she was pleased to hear, their newest recruit. When she was done serving everyone Abby stood off in a corner and ate a bowl of stew herself. At least Greg could cook. Actually, she found the food way better than what she was used to. Glancing around every so often for Gordon or the captain and not finding them (of <em>course<em> they'd be eating above deck), she settled on sitting with Shane, who sat pretty much on his own. She had finished her own stew and needed to get ready for her first dance, but the child delighted in her company and the least she could do was be there.

"Cook said not to talk to you, you know." The youth mentioned after a while through a mouthful of stew. Abigail wasn't very surprised at this but replied to be courteous.  
>"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow playfully. Shane didn't notice.<br>"Yeah, he says you're evil." He extended the word mockingly. Again she was not surprised.

What she took instead from his statement was the implication of Greg caring for the boy. "And you listen to him?" She tried to hide her realization as she steadied her eyebrows to keep them from shooting up.

Shane scoffed, filling another spoon with food. "No way. I'm here talking to ya, aren't I?" He made her feel so stupid, this little boy of sheep-dog hair and space-blue eyes. A child half her own size, which wasn't very big to begin with, who wore clothes way too big for him. A baggy shirt made out of what looked like a potato sack, tattered trousers cinched with a scarf she noted might look good in her hair. And she, a strong independent Gypsy, being made to feel dulled by _him_?

Abigail tried not to roll her eyes. "I mean- you two are close?" She covered. It was in the ballpark of what he was saying.  
>"Somewhat," his answer was vague, but it was enough to confirm her suspicions. "I'm under his care, 'least I let him think so. I guess we's close," he added.<p>

Typical boy answer, she smiled. She tugged a lock of hair behind her ear. Good to know Greg had a heart _somewhere_, she added, changing the subject. "Will you be at my show tonight?" Most of the crew had finished eating now and were drinking and chatting. The biggest topic of conversation seemed to be her. Plus, a part of Abigail was curious to know just how protective the cook was of his charge.

"Nah. I gotta help clean dishes."

The Gypsy's eyes widened and she leaned back, pushing against the table. "All by yourself? That large pile?" The one she _just_ got done with? Shane shrugged.  
>"Somebody has to do 'em." He scraped at his bowl and then pushed it aside, getting up. He said a quick word of goodbye before heading to the kitchen, no doubt to start working. Abby didn't want to tell him the real reason the cook didn't want him watching her dance or spending time around her and just smiled after him. She was relieved, however, that she wouldn't have to scrub pots again that night. Even if she wanted to, she didn't have the strength. All of the energy from her dinner would more or less go towards her performance.<p>

As she got up to go on deck to practice for it, she heard many whispers from the spacers around her. 'There goes the Gypsy,' some got the attention of their friends. 'Fine lady,' some admitted more to themselves than to anyone else. 'Just a kid,' a few lamented. Many just looked, which resulted in the occasional 'watch were you're ogling, buddy.' They were a fine bunch of men, she decided. The captain had a respectable crew and she definitely respected a man who could hire such great boys. Maybe she _was_ being a burden just by being on his ship. She didn't really believe that.

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><p>{AN}: I thank all of those who have stuck with me thus far, and I apologize for those who only started reading for Jim. I promise, he's the starring role in the next chapter. I am also sorry that the cook isn't Silver. I assure you, it originally was him, but I had to change him because... well, Jim's reputation being at stake over just a Gypsy, imagine how well it would stand against the wanted pirate? Plus, there wasn't enough hate on the ship. Muahahaha. Review for Shane or else he'll dump a dirty bucket of suds over your heads!  
>Alright, serious now. I hate OC's as much as you, so again I would like to remind you that this initially wasn't going to be a fanfiction. BUT I PROMISE JIM WILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU SOON. I update roughly every two days, until I run out of pre-written chapters.<p>

Chersti: Thank you for reading. I hope my explanation for his elusiveness has been sufficient, although I'll explain more on that later. I hope to hear more from you :)

EventHorizon6: I'm glad you've enjoyed my story so far! Would that you might read on ;)


	5. First Encounter

Five

Frowning slightly, she climbed the stairs away from the clamor. The steps slanted so that she needed her hands to pull herself up, but she sort of liked it that way. When she emerged, the air that greeted her wasn't suffocating like below. Her lungs welcomed the change. She breathed deep, steadying her movements and centering herself on her 'stage'. She didn't want to disappoint on her first night so finding the rhythm in the sounds around her, the very soul of the Etherium, and catching it, she sang.  
>"<em>Oh way-oh out below the planet's moon lies the fire, the children, and the local loon. Said he to the sky with the mocking moon, as the haunted winds blow, we'll all be dead soon<em>." She danced.  
>A voice interrupted her from behind the mast. "That's a little morbid for my taste," it commented dryly. Abigail stopped mid-twirl and cautiously tiptoed around the giant structure. She wanted to face the man but he moved away, just not before she managed a glimpse of his brown hair. That was enough for her to know he was younger than she initially gauged. It didn't much matter, she would respect him the same, but she did find this new development intriguing.<p>

"And you are?" She fished for a name, but all she got was

"The captain." Oh, how informative. She almost face-palmed when he went on to state who he knew her to be. "You are Abigail Dossen, Gypsy girl, runaway, and my unfortunate problem." As if she didn't already know.

"How nicely you put it, captain," she cringed at his distaste, "but I'll ask you to call me Abby." The cook had been right, Abigail _was_ rather long and formal.

The captain frowned, as she thought he would. Although the only way she could tell he did was in the way he replied. "I will call you nothing else, Abigail." Well, so much for a new identity.  
>"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms and trying for the second time to sneak a look at his face. He moved, his shadow shifting in front of her, and she narrowed her eyes. What needed hiding, or did he seriously just not want to look her straight in the eye? Maybe he couldn't. An idea popped into her head. She might leave the issue alone, or she might use his stubbornness as leverage for a name. "But, if you call me Abigail, I get to call you… Luca." Check….<p>

The captain blanched at the gypsy name. "I will agree to Abby if you never call me that again," he allowed. Abigail had actually hoped for him to release his real name after that, although getting him to call her Abby was what she had wanted.

"Nothin' doing, Captain Mikhai." She threw her hands up and shook her head as if nothing could be done on the matter. Perhaps she could be just as stubborn. The captain in question grimaced; he'd hoped she wouldn't press on.  
>"It's Captain Hawkins." He gave. <em>Check, mate<em>. She thought.  
>Still, she put on a look of disgust. One more attempt couldn't hurt, right? "Ouch. Okay, I'm gonna go with Mark." She grinned.<br>"Abigail." Hawkins warned, glaring into the distance. He was tired of her game, though it brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. The girl danced toward him for a third time and for a third time he had to slide around the mast away from her.  
>She backed into the structure and put a bare foot up against it, leaning her weight against it. "Do you have a first name?" She was running out of questions and he was running out of patience. The captain considered telling her, just to get her off his back. In the end, his pride won out and he just said:<br>"No."

Forgetting how odd it was to not have a first name, Abigail gave up. "Well, then you're Jim to me. I don't mind 'Abgail' so much, if you must call me that because of my insolence."

There was silence for a moment until the captain simply said, "alright," which surprised her. Although that 'Jim' might be his actual name didn't occur to her. While his mind was racing with how she managed to guess it, she remained totally unaware.

"So are you going to watch me dance?" She changed the subject like she had with Shane. She actually heard the mischief in the boy's voice as he stopped over-thinking in order to say,  
>"I just did."<p>

Case in point. Abigail noted that on top of stubborn pride, this captain had a little smugness to him. "Can we talk face to face?" She shot back, moving to see him as he instinctively stepped away. They were circling the mast in a sort of give-and-take when the crew slowly began to file up the stairs. Playing host, she had to greet and seat them all. When she looked back to where Captain Hawkins had been she discovered he was gone without an answer.

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><p>{AN}: I will tell a lot of the story from Jim's point of view, just not yet. They will talk face to face... just... not yet ;)  
>Read, Relax, Review, Remember: I own absolutely no part of Captain Hawkins or Amelia's ship. Or the Etherium.<p> 


	6. End of Day One

Six

After the dance Gordon fetched her to her quarters amidst the chattering crowd. Below even the crew's cabin and kitchen it was eerily quiet. A last minute cot had been rigged next to the longboats, and Abigail was grateful not to share with the men. Even if she felt safe enough to sleep around them they tended to snore and mumble in their sleep. And anyway, how can anyone get any rest with all that testosterone around?

Undressing into her under-shirt and skirt, and removing all her jewelry, she moved her dagger from her boot to beneath her pillow and began to crawl into bed. Yet she felt as if she was not alone. Without any noise beyond the hum of the generators she heard the echo of nuts and bolts being messed with in the engine room down the hall. Slowly Abby crept out of bed to follow it, her feet arching with expert stealth.

It reminded her of sneaking past her parent's room to howl with the coyotes on summer nights. She would need to memorize every creaky board on the floor if she wanted to go completely undetected, however. She was just working on that when out of the corner of her eye a small body moved within shadow. Straining to see who it was, she lost all concentration. Her feet dropped down hard on the wood and her weight went with them.  
>"Shelly?" She gasped, forgetting to call him Shane. A quick look back towards the engine room alerted to her that he hadn't come from that direction. "Are you still up?" Abigail approached him, thoroughly confused. A look at his grimy face caused her a sharp intake of breath.<p>

"I was a'sleep." He whined. Taking in his night clothes and the circles under his eyes, she relaxed.

"Bad dreams?" She sympathized. He nodded. Abigail smiled and gestured back where her cot was. "Want me to tell you a story?" She offered, delighting in how the boy's face lit up when he nodded.  
>"Could you?" he grinned, catching her in a hug. His head barely made her mid-section. Patting his blond hair, she led him to her cot and tucked him in, sitting nearby on the floor.<p>

It took her a while to think of a good story she knew. "Have you heard the story of…" she slowed, choosing her words carefully. "Treasure Planet?" She didn't think it was possible for Shane to be any happier as she started to weave the adventures of Silver, Jim, and the loot of a thousand worlds.

"I wanna be like Jim someday," The youth stated sleepily as she got to the end.

Abigail wasn't really thinking when she murmured, "me too."

A soft "But you're a girl!" hit her. Pausing to watch his steady breathing, she moved a strand of hair out of Shane's face. He bat her hand away.

"Oh, then I suppose I should leave all the fun to the men?" her heart protested. But Shane was already asleep. "How boring," Abigail complained with a roll of the eyes. Getting up, she kissed his forehead. He reminded her so much of her youngest sister. Her favorite, if you couldn't guess by now. That same thirst for adventure….

By now the engine room would be empty. She went to enjoy the electrified air and sounds anyway. She couldn't sleep there though. So she wandered all the way up to the deck. The sky was quickly becoming her best friend. The stars might as well be home for how safe she felt among them, perhaps she was meant to be a spacer. It was after she put her arms on the railing, contemplating thus, that she noticed lights on in Jim's study. On the notion that the door may be unlocked, she approached. Through the half-curtained window her eyes finally got a look at the boy she'd been watching for all day. Just, not his face.

He had his back to her. Definitely just a boy, not even three years her senior, she didn't figure. He almost resembled the Jim from her story. Except the Jim from her story had cut his hair and was now living at home with his mother. And was probably not as cute. Wait, what? Abigail shook her head, a mischievous smile on her lips. She knocked on the door and watched the captain startle. He jumped up as a little pink blob rose to his face and chirruped, trying to calm him.

What did his face look like when in shock? She wanted to know when he turned but she couldn't risk being found out and so she ducked. Crawling all the way back to the engine room was no easy task in her underclothes, which snagged on loose boards. The night chill also ran straight through to her skin. Abigail was accustomed to a desert climate. Staying warm hadn't been on her mind when she came up, but quickly became a problem before she reached safety from it. Now she could sleep, at last. Her prank had eased her mind, whatever had bothered it now long forgotten.

Yet as she slept, doubts filtered into her good dreams. Wouldn't it've been better to stay with Ricardo? Even with his lecherous tendencies. What had she done, escaping on this boat to what she hoped would resemble freedom. What, honestly, _could_ she prove by herself. And why did she feel so rejected by some guy she didn't even know? In her sleep Abigail tossed, curling into a ball under the engine. The vastness of space suddenly scared her.

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><p>{AN}: Next chapter will be long again, and will have a lot of Jim again, and then the chapter after _that_ should be all Jim. Fangirls. Tch.  
>Read, Review, Remember: I don't own the captain, the R.L.S legacy, Morph, the Etherium, or Treasure Planet.<br>Thank you!


	7. Meeting Captain

Seven

It was a week before she caught sight of the captain again. Greg had kept her busy day in and out and she had maintained her happy façade, but occasionally her eyes watered for the life she left. This mostly happened when she was alone. Which, unfortunately, was approximately 21 hours, five days a week. Yesterday it had kept her in bed all day. She was still hiding from that infraction on her part when Gordon caught her escaping her week's dance.

"Captain wants you, missy." He announced, grabbing her shoulder. His features hard.

Abigail's eyelids dropped a centimeter. And she'd almost gotten away, too. "Careful, I don't like needy men," she joked. The first mate was unamused.

"This is serious. You didn't attend roll call this morning or yesterday-"

"It's not like he does." She shot back, meaning Jim. Gordon gave her a funny look that made her stomach knot.

"Well," he almost laughed, releasing her. "He was there today, and noticed you weren't."

Damn. She had missed her chance to see his face. Abigail wanted to hit herself as the news seemed to dampen her already sunken mood. "Any chance he was watching me today?" She asked offhandedly, stepping back. Gordon hesitated before slightly nodding. For some reason this made her angry, instead of happy. Then she let him take her to meet the captain.

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><p>When she was seated in Jim's office, facing the back of his chair, her aggravation got worse. Before she could speak, he pulled on her final nerve. "Are you ready to go back yet?" was all he said. Simply, in monotone, questioningly, as if he were speaking to a tiny child.<p>

"**_WHAT?_**" Abigail shrieked. Oh, that was _it_.

The captain was unfazed at her outcry. "Abigail, I don't know why you ran away, but I feel it's time you return. We make port next Wednesday-"

"You don't understand!" She interrupted, desperation in her voice as she stood. "I can't- you don't- Do you think I LIKE being-" Glancing around the room, flailing, something didn't seem right. She tried to put her finger on it. Her forehead creased.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" She fumed, growling in frustration and swiveling his massive leather chair around. It was empty. Her arms fell to her sides and she dropped into it, devastated. Slowly Jim stepped out from the corner of the room, completely dumbfounded. Shock filled his eyes as she started to cry.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." He coaxed, awkwardly putting a hand behind his neck. "I-" he hesitated, taking a half-step towards her. She growled. "I may have made a… a mistake."

"BIG." She glared him down through red eyes, then abruptly wiped them off with her sleeve, got up, gave Hawkins a once-over, and stomped out. She wanted off this ship. But a new planet was way more intimidating than a boat of friendly spacers. Could she face that, _just_ to avoid Jim? If he kicked her off, would she have no choice? These things she had to consider as crewmen turned their heads to watch her storming around, a few asking if she'd be okay.

Meanwhile, one very confused captain was staring heavily at his door. What in the galaxy had just happened to him? He was trying to do the right thing! Her last look at him had nearly burned. That girl- she just, didn't understand how important it was to be with her family. It was a tough decision for him to leave his mother again, and if his father was there… If…. Jim slammed a fist down on his desk, causing his coffee mug to spill and a paper to float off. Morph woke up from his nap and looked at him worriedly. "It's okay boy," he cooed to the pink being as it rubbed against his cheek. "She just gets under my skin."

* * *

><p>Shane was the first to go looking for Abigail, until Greg pulled him to the kitchen. Later that night Gordon spotted her, but she threw everything she could grab at his head until it was clear only the captain could apologize. The canid slunk away massaging a particularly bad bruise on his temple. At least the whole damn boat didn't come pouring in after her. She did cry, not knowing what for. Most likely for a chance to be heard.<p>

Near almost midnight the captain found her lying on her side in one of the longboats. He wouldn't have come if it weren't for all the dirty looks his men kept giving him. "I owe you an apology." He sighed. There was no answer from the lump of a girl. "I'm not scary, am I?" he grinned, but it faded. She wasn't in the mood to be cheered. "Abby?" he tried to play on her nickname. Whatever he did, he couldn't win her favor. Finally he sat down beside the boat, an arm hanging languidly over his knee. He wore his regular clothes after dinner each day, a beige shirt with big sleeves and overly-baggy denim pants tied by a giant belt and tucked into his big spacing boots. They looked monumentally better on him than his white Academy uniform.

"I'm sorry." His voice fought with his lungs to create the words. "I don't know how it is with your family, but I won't mention them again. My dad… he didn't want- he, with me- this, this isn't helping." Mentally Jim kicked himself for bringing up an old scar. Fortunately, it seemed to cheer up the Gypsy as she lifted her head over the long boat's edge and glanced at him with tear-stained eyes. There was a curiosity there that he could recognize as his own. Remembering now that neither of them had faced themselves this closely, his cheeks flushed and he looked away.

It was just the perfect length of time for Abigail. She saw his strong chin, milky green eyes, and broad eyebrows. Oh, so much better in person. "On the contrary," she smirked, "I rather enjoy hearing you squirm."

Jim couldn't help reaching out and flicking her on the head. Her mouth dropped and she clamped a hand where his fingers made contact, as if she couldn't believe he'd do such a childish thing. "Heh." He smiled that winning smile her little sister swooned over her description of, its power much more palpable right in front of her. "Truth is," he found his hands very interesting then, "I don't like being in charge. I'm a free spirit, like you."

"Treasure Planet, I know." Abigail admitted, flipping a hand in the air to accentuate herself. The captain slowly looked back at her. Escaping his fame really was impossible if even a girl from the outer rim knew of him.

His smiled turned sheepish. "Oh, you figured that out?"

Abigail answered with a toothy grin. She climbed expertly out of the boat to crouch beside him. "Wasn't hard once I saw Morph. I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be sailing under _the_ Captain James Pleiades Hawkins. Though truthfully, I picked this ship hoping to meet you." It was a reasonable explanation to her insistent curiosity, anyway. It held merit, so the boy was none the wiser.

"Just Jim, please." He frowned, less than happy to have his identity exposed like that. She put her hands up as a sign that she was backing off.

"Was never one for formalities anyway." She scoffed, making Jim chuckle. "So what say you to keeping me on? Am I fired?" Her body shot up as she paced away, finding a good curtain of shadow to occupy.

The captain turned slightly to watch her strangenes. "Y'know," he began. "My mother would kill me if she knew I let a Gyspy on." Abigail's face fell. He let his words hang over her head before standing on his own and putting a thoughtful finger to his chin, facing his back, once again, to her. "Of course," she perked up, "my mother would refuse to ever look me in the eye if she heard I turned you away.  
>And I myself would regret letting such an adventurous girl go." His words were cut short as Abigail thrust herself at him, her arms quickly around his neck and her legs hooked at his waist. He couldn't take the weight or momentum and fell forward, her mumbled 'thank you's' hot in his ear. "Yeah, okay, rule number one:" he pried her off as she jumped back, embarrassedly fiddling with her hands behind her. "No touching."<p>

She didn't expect any less, though she didn't like his rule. "G'night Captain." She fluttered her eyelashes playfully.  
>"Goodnight Abigail." He winked, then left her. She tried to get sleep but his eyes haunted her dreams among nightmares. They starred ancient ships on ocean waves, empty and tattered in an unending storm, and a girl who couldn't be saved.<p>

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><p>{AN}: Hold on to your horses, mates, 'cause we're getting into the main adventure. Introductions are through, so it is officially time to stop stalling. Are you happy now? Jim is a big role in this part! Read, Review, Remember: I don't own the captain, the Etherium, any of Jim's friends, or Treasure Planet.


	8. Business as Usual

Eight

Upon waking up (The day was Wednesday), her heart panicked, protesting with her brain that somehow she was still in the dream. For outside the world was covered in water. Literally. The planet Jim had docked their ship at had no semblance of land. Abigail was on the brink of going insane. Never had she been so terrified in all her 16 years, and that meant something to her.

No one noticed her clasping her chest or her eyes darting around, seeking safety. All the men were offloading goods for trade. Shipments they had brought for the people. Gordon was near the ramp with the cook. It led to a floating platform, the peoples' own city. Shane was presumably already on it and that left her with nobody to turn to save the one she wouldn't be able to find. Not that her mind could process all that in her desperation to run straight to her cot and hide. But she was glued to the floor. It seemed like ages when a hand on her shoulder jolted Abigail back to herself.

"Whoah," Jim took in her frightened air. "What's wrong?"

What wasn't wrong? She didn't know how to swim. What she _did_ know was just how many seconds it would take for her to drown. "My planet has no water." She replied flatly.

"Fear of the unknown? You?" He stifled a laugh when he saw she was deadly serious. She frowned at him. Not that she was mad at him for his jibe, it's not like she had really made her insecurities clear. Then again, she never thought they'd prove this paralyzing.

Sliding down to her knees, she stared at his boots, not really seeing them. "Well I'm not going to say you aren't right." Then she added as an afterthought, "but don't get used to it." A shiver ran down her spine as Jim crouched besides her, unsmiling.

"Please stand," he urged, pulling her back up, noticing when she took another fearful glance at the water around them. "You don't have to leave the ship." Mind reader, Abigail gave him a queer glance. As if she was planning to leave in the first place.

Her eyes snapped to his, brushing his hands off her arms carefully. "Don't underestimate me! I can join your men there…" By that she meant the platform of doom. "I am able to do- um, anything I put my mind to." She smiled, but her hesitation said everything her shaking frame didn't.

Jim's eyes hardened and he raised Abigail's chin. "No. You will stay here. That's... an order." For a second he realized that maybe his weren't the best choice of words. Yet she bit her instinctual retort of '_so you're **ordering** me now?' _and just nodded her head. He searched her face a moment longer and, seeing her defeat, let her go. Turning on his heel, he led her down to her station. When they got below, however, she turned in the direction of the engine room instead. The captain understood. He too escaped to this place whenever his responsibilities proved too much. He was loathe to let the shaking girl out of his sight, but he had such responsibilities as the offloading of his latest shipment.

* * *

><p>Clothing, gunpowder, sugars and spices for food preservation. It wouldn't take long to get the money he was owed and make way, he assured himself as he climbed out of the hold. Seagull-like birds circled the mast, which billowed in the salty air. Every member of his crew had a smile upon his face. It reminded him of the spaceport on his home planet, sans the h2o.<p>

As he stuck his hands in his white uniform's pants' pocket, he headed off the boat and began to whistle. The cook and his first mate tipped their heads to him and he tried to appreciate the position he held. Really, Jim was grateful to be captain. If nothing else, it meant that his future was finally, almost completely, and totally, up to him. That brought a smile to his lips. Adventure! Discovering new worlds… well, after making a little more dough as a merchant and naval ship, so soon enough. Then he could fund such expeditions. He'd ask the Doppler family, but daren't since they had family expenses to care for.

The wind played with his hair and sea spray hit his face down at the city's port. It was another small planet, also on the outskirts of the Etherium. This was a notable spot for fishermen, as opposed to Jedadye's gypsies. Pushing through the crowd, his whistling strayed from his usual tunes, bringing his thoughts along for the ride. "_The stormy brine goes on fore'er. But we'll heed no call…." _Hadn't she sung? Why _then,_ did she seem less afraid of the words she sang? Someone called out to him from the hustling crowd and he waved, recognizing one of his men.

What mattered most was getting paid. Not the Gypsy, not her singing, not her fear. Even if he did get them out as soon as possible, that still meant leaving the next morning. No captain, no matter how cruel, would force his crew on without a rest. They didn't stop on Abigail's home planet, so that made this planet ('Synghen'), their obvious choice. If he saw the cook's boy around then he would task the whelp with buying new clothes for the girl, and watching her for the night. That at least he could do to comfort her. She seemed fond of Shane anyway.

Back to business. He _was_ captain, after all. Jim straightened his back and freed his hands as he approached the office of his buyer. His posture always reverted to slouching when he wasn't watched. Just as he still wore the clothes he preferred as a boy, although he had grown into them and so they weren't _quite_ as baggy as before. Whatever made him comfortable, he reasoned. The building he stopped in front of was a beaten-down grey with a big ware-house style door. High-class work they must be doing here, he rolled his eyes. It took his full weight to coax it open and he un-professionally wound up falling in. Dim lights inside hinted at kerosene and cast small pools on the floor. It made him slightly uneasy, but what kind of place _hadn't_ he dealt with? He could handle this. What had Abigail said? That name entered unbidden. '_I am able to do anything I put my mind to_'. In truth, she was the most head-strong girl he had met in nearly three years. The last being Amelia and the first being his mother.

* * *

><p>"Cap'n Hawkins." An aged voice announced rather than greeted from a catwalk above. "Did you bring the supplies?" Jim crossed his arms, ready to get on with it.<p>

"All thirty crates. You got the money?" He examined his thumb. A chink of metal alerted him that his payment had been dropped. Slowly the boy picked it up and counted. It came out right, and so he smiled. "A deal's a deal." He grinned, a bit greedily, pocketing the cash. Unfortunately, he turned too quick to notice the smirk on the rafter man's aging face. So he didn't know what hit him when he blacked out.

* * *

><p>{AN}: Ah, there we go. A badly half-edited excuse for adventure. I'm late in updating, too, but that has more to do with me being sick for a while. Next chapter won't be up until (maybe) next Friday.


	9. Why Me

Nine

Jim came to in a very musty room that rocked, buffered by waves. How did he not see this coming? His hands were bound tight, but not his feet. If he squinted, he could just make out the crates that lined his prison. A cargo hold. Great. So what was the thug's master plan? He didn't see much use in his capture. _Unless they're gunning for my ship_. Except, that couldn't be it, because his crew was more than capable of fighting them off. So then- wait. A hostage situation didn't seem likely…. Still, they knew his legacy. _If_ they were smart enough, they'd be after his long-spent wealth. Ha! Silly pirates. Thugs. Thieves. Gyp- well, whatever they identified as.

His agenda currently consisted of two, maybe three things. First: escape the fools who caught him. Well, hadn't he been the real fool in the end for falling to their trap? No, no, obviously not, Jim inwardly assured himself. Though he groaned at his ignorance. Second: he had to get away from this planet. Third: he had to report the pirates to the Galactic authorities. As was his civic, and naval, duty. Fourth - well, there seemed to be a fourth – and most important, he might add, but where was his 3,000 pounds? A thousand per crate, and if they stole- yet he felt the comforting weight still in his pockets. Stranger and stranger, Jim muttered.

Just then, a drunken voice came from down the hall. "SHUT UP!" it yelled to someone else.

"I was jus' sayin', Al, if he's really got 'da means to open this ma-" a large thud resonated down the hallway as the second speaker was silenced.

The aforementioned 'al' gave off a very guttural growl. "I TOLD you, shut your awful trap! If the captain hears you-" (let it be noted here that Jim was so used to being called 'Captain' that he immediately felt addressed and it took him a moment to recover) "then it'll be our hides!"

The voices stopped after that. So, the current prisoner went back to step one. Hands tied, feet not, crates that couldn't help him. One had a big rusty nail coming loose but that didn't seem very important. Unless… hang on, that was the key to his problems! Jim backed into the crate, using his feet to propel himself. There he grasped the nail and yanked with his bound hands. They were confined with simple rope, and if he sawed at it enough, it would eventually be undone. This process unfortunately took hours.

* * *

><p>By the time he was finishing, sweat on his brow, cuts on his wrists and fingers, grunting and cursing the name of gypsies, sailors, and pirates alike, the door opened. Egads was it bright! Jim squinted to see the man who tortured him with light and hoped his escape progress wouldn't be noticed. When the man spoke, he recognized it as Al.<p>

"Hawkins." The man called the blinking boy. "Time to go meet the captain." _But I **am** the captain! _He wanted to shout. How stupid would _that_ sound aloud?

"And does he have a name?" Jim spat, getting to his feet as best he could.

Al gave a wicked grin and nodded. "Why, it's John Silver, mate!"

And Jim had never been so full of horror and relief at one moment in his 18 years of life.

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><p>{AN}: Sorry. It's short. I haven't worked on it 'till today, been sleepy. Hope you enjoyed anyway.  
>Read, Review, Remember: I don't own Jim Hawkins, John Silver, The Etherium, the rusty nail, or the deathstar, although how that one relates I can't say.<p> 


	10. At Odds

Ten

What if he died. What if the deal didn't go over so well and he… was going to be in an inn, probably hung over, and nothing to worry about. So she should just plant her scaredy-felinid feet and stay below deck. Just think of it as a fight with dad, Abby, just cower in your room and he'll be back and you can apologize then. Except this situation was completely different. So what if he just left her to- "Abigail" sit alone in this dank place alone in a world- "Abigail!" that could very well kill her at any second, at any- "ABIGAIL!" breath-

"What!" She shrieked, utterly scarring Shane as she watched him jump back three feet. "Oh, I'm sorry," she reached a hand out but retracted it to wipe at her eyes again. "I just get a bit nervous here." It had taken hours for her to even remember her own name after she escaped to the engine room. Another two to get the courage to slink back to her cot. The last hour, she had spent pacing and muttering to herself.

"Pardon my intrusion but cap'n gave me these things to bring 'ta you." That's when she noticed the bundle of clothes in his arms. He quickly handed them over and smiled. She couldn't believe it, somehow.

The timing was off. "Did Jim really-?" only the look on Shane's face drooped to a 'no'.

"There's been no word. Not since he left 9 hours ago. Cook got you thems clothes but said you'd appreciate it betta' if I says Hawkins did." He stared at his feet and fiddled with his hands behind his back. When Abby sat down, suddenly feeling very tired and troubled, however, he went to comfort her.

"I hope he's alright. Because when he comes back, he's in for a world of trouble."

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><p>Somewhere on the sea, Jim flinched in agitation. He didn't know why, or where it came from, yet somehow he felt he knew whom to blame. <em>Oh great. She'll kill me. <em>He laughed, a bright tone that quickly echoed off into a haunted, foreboding one. Night was not far off, and he had no idea where he was. The captor called 'Al' led him, shuffling his feet, down a long galley way to an open door where merry voices rang out. The man had seaweed-like appendages wrapping down his sides from his neck, leaving a trail of goo that Jim constantly had to step over.

"_Yo ho, yo ho…." _The lad decided then and there that he had had enough singing in the past few weeks to last a lifetime. Though, he had to give the pirates credit for sticking to the cliché. "_A pirate's life for me_!" And that's when he heard it. That laugh, the thud of a mechanical leg hitting wood and the whir of Silver's eye revolving. Al pushed open the door, and the sight hit Jim full force. Tears gathered up as he dropped the ropes he had cut from his hands and ran at the cyborg, stopping short when he realized his idiocy.

Silver had smiled, but faltered when his former cabin boy grimaced, clenching his fists. Really, the boy looked comical, weight on one foot, ready to run or fight the world. He was every bit as much the young hopeful he had known on that fateful cruise so many years ago. Where had that potential gone? Jim took another moment to compose himself, relaxing his stance and wiping a curl of hair from his temple. Ah, there was the naval captain he'd been searching for.

"Spit it out," Jim grit through his teeth, trying to appear nonchalant.

Silver faked shock. He put metal fingers to his heart. "Why, ma boy! We've not seen each ot'her fer so long, and this be how you're greetin' meh?"

"Last time I saw you," Hawkins reigned his hurt in, "you were escaping on a longboat, with half the treasure, without looking back."

"I looked!" The cyborg protested, but seeing the boy's stare, rubbed his neck and looked away. Oh, right. _That_'s where Jim had picked up that quirk. "Okay, but you got'ta understan', it weren't easy leavin' like that." No reply. "Seems you're doin' well, ain't cha."

They were _so_ not having this conversation right now. "Just tell me why I'm here, 'cause I've got an awful lot of stuff to do back on my ship." And that stuff amounted to a list of one: survive a gypsy's wrath. Silver got the idea.

Gently the old cyborg motioned to a chair for Hawkins to sit. He didn't, his muscles were too sore. Giving up, Silver began. "Remember t'at map you opn'ned fer treasure planet? Me crewmates 'an I were wond'ring if you could repl'cate what ye did, on this." He brought out a neon blue cube, with one button on each side. Jim snorted.

"What, you can't figure _that_ out? It can't be that-" the whole room glared at him and the cube was tossed over. "-hard." He finished later, after 63 consecutive tries.

Silver was unamused, taking the so-called 'map' away. "Well, we'll try ag'in tomorrow." Then he turned, took one look back at the boy, and left Jim gaping.

"What! I have to STAY here! I can't-" but he was gagged and dragged away before he had a chance to rant more. Lying once again in his make-shift cell, he had the opportunity to wonder. Where the hell was he, where was he being taken, what was Silver after. Lastly, and he kicked himself for forgetting, but where in the name of stardust had Morph gone?

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><p>{AN}: I didn't update last week, and I still feel this chapter is too rushed, but I won't delay it longer.  
>Read, Review, Remember: I don't own Treasure Planet or its cast.<br>What say you? Is Jim already off-planet, will Abigail have to go on a search through space itself? Or is it much simpler, and he's still within grasp beyond her fear of water?


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